Finally, Quintessence
by N.T. Embe
Summary: A oneshot set on Christmas Day. A tribute to my love for Vincent Valentine. AUish. Original Character involved.


_This is my holiday special, even though it's more than a bit early. Merry Christmas everyone!_

_**Disclaimer!** I do not own FFVII. I do own the main character. The two songs within this fic are not owned by me. The first is called _The World_ and is from .Hack/SIGN, and the second is called _Lullaby_ and is from Noir._

_As for all you Valentine fans, I understand that introducing my own personal character may seem a violation of what you deem alright, but I hope that you can read this as I thought it up: a story of what this season is truly about—bringing people together and being there for those who seem most in need._

_Read and enjoy. Thank you… Vix 3.16_

8-&-8

**Finally, Quintessence**

Penned by Vix 3.16

8-&-8

Flurries of individual perfection, eddies of colorless purity, and the vast dark countenance above followed the moonlit young woman. Curls of silver vapor wound over her shoulders, hung in the air for that space in time lengthier than a moment, quicker though, than a second's span. Her uncovered face held her in an acute awareness of this frigidity, her eyes looked on the crisp world while half-lidded in silent thought, and they both were settled well within the depth of the evening. Suddenly her tall boots cracked through the thick layer of ice and plunged into snow several inches deep. She stumbled and quickly leapt forward onto solid white once more with nary a change in her face other than the deep frown that flickered over her lips as her gray-blue eyes focused ever on the path she followed, one spread out before her mind's eye.

It was a distant image of great, monochrome hills that echoed in her mind, so shaky and only a wisp of a memory by this growing hour. Her eyes narrowed, though truthfully her surroundings were not the cause of the slight movement. Before long yet, the thought settled into a clearer focus, and her mutual frown and eyes relaxed into the set appearance of a faceless determination. The pines were ever black to her eyes, yet still she could feel their regal towering forms challenging her quietly probing mind. And she almost smiled.

_It's just where I would expect him to live. Somewhere so wild and isolated… just like him…. Well… only the isolated part._

This time a smile did creep onto her face, and she wondered what had happened to her that made her feel that the only way she was allowed to act on this little expedition was seriously.

_Well… there's the thought of whom I am searching for… and then there's the point that although it's the very day of Christmas, I am still just one woman wandering in the center of the wildest forest I've yet traversed through. And… there's inevitably my reason for going there…._

A sigh escaped her lips and she restrained herself from letting her tongue flick out to run over those lips. It was too cold, too _cold_ for anything like that. At the thought she involuntarily shivered, her eyes closing momentarily, though she opened them again before she could lose her equilibrium.

Soon spread before her thoughts she brought up once more the momentarily lost image of white hills, splattered with an emerald so deep it appeared a glistening ebony. Pinpointed in her mind was the small knick cut at the crown of one such great mound. She focused there with ease, long practice, and the mountains in the backdrop were left as a haze to her. In that little nook in the world glowed something she could identify from a hundred miles away as the light from within a common household. Although, her reasoning had long led her to settle on the fact that this was more than one's usual abode.

_The light from there was too bright to my eyes, and held a particular warmth,_ she had thought rationally to herself._ Although it was more than twenty miles—yes, probably more—from where I had ridden by and seen them, they nevertheless appeared as bright as the lights from down any old lane in this country. It's a mansion of some sort, set in the middle of no where and, very possibly, only visible to those who sought _it_ in particular._

Her head inclined slightly to agree with this reoccurring thought and she grimly set onwards, a bit more focused now, if only for a moment. For soon her eyes were clouded over after she'd taken a moment and estimated herself only several miles yet from her destination. Though there was no joy in tracing through the deep snow, very often being caught in a hidden drift when the ground beneath the innocence dipped, still she went onwards. Discomfort would not dissuade this soothed night.

Her… _friend_… was settled somewhere out of reach, and somewhere beyond this devastating and haughty wood, this she knew and it was all that needed be known. A silvery breath traced away upon a mindless stepping eddy of air… and the sigh from her chapped lips was barely audible. Keen ice blue eyes, her own in only this uncertain light, looked forwards through something more than the darkling night's spawn of never-ending shadow. 'Friend' seemed an overstatement of the true fact… yet for all the languages that echoed in her mind and around her timeless form, she could not grasp the word that would describe her relation to the being that was Valentine.

_If ever I'd known my classification I would utter it without a touch of my faint heart, though it may not seem so fragile to the world. Who in all of this am I, truly now? If I have no title for myself… if I cannot possibly state under what I fall, me and my own corroded, listless self… then how in all the circles of time am I to know what I am to him?_

With heavy thoughts burdening her mind, it was not a wonder that now her face fell, eyes cloaked with sudden depression while her lips parted in silent a cry. In the heavens above but only the moon peered through the overhanging branches, casting a disarray of winding stories upon the snow before her, and they were easily read by her dim eyes. Of the moon, solemn as ever she would be in her throne till daylight took her place, and so she set a concerned, yet uninvolved gaze upon her form, treading a poem in the unspoiled blankets of the earth. She shook her head slightly, a common touch of disgust with herself or a chastisement towards her actions, and noted in desperately clinging silence how her normally earthen hair appeared unusually milky in this half-light.

_Which makes no sense… as these locks are typically a deep brown._

The thought, however, was lost to her as a slimmer fragment of a worn and weary bother pricked her mind and gently crept its way into her soft and ever plausible thoughts.

_I told her I'd found out where he lived… and I know that Cloud also overheard the comment. I told my love I needed to take care of something… and I know, as clear as the heavens above, that he understands… that he knows where I'm off to in the middle of the night; that he knows who I'm going to._

She shivered and moved on in temporary silence.

_Betrayal._

Something to cling to, desperately to cling to, was what so suddenly she sought, eyes squeezing shut as a tangible pain tore at her chest and the back of her neck. It was of her own making, this she knew, but the word would not leave her mind, could not be dislodged no matter how she hurt herself to glance away from the tumultuous word.

_Only a few more miles… just about an hour's travel more…._ The thought was brought to her mind as a last defense, trying to numb the pain by falling into the business at hand. But, violently throwing her out of her thoughts, there was a rapid jolt of something through the air, wind hissing past in livid desire.

"_You are here… alone again… in your sweet insanity…"_

She had stopped, found herself fallen into the suddenly terrorizing snow, before so soft and willing to glide from out of her way, now eagerly grabbing hold of her, lacing her hands and limbs in white. Her eyes fluttered closed against a set of teeth that scraped at the side of her head—_So cold._—a long bitter tongue sliding over her forehead and eyes… _tauntingly_. Suddenly milky eyes snapped open and she glared at the twisting, slithering wind she felt, could not see. Her teeth were bared in bitter fury before she could stop the instinctive action. Her mind hissed and snarled threateningly back, a deeply writhing and pained sound.

_Do not _play_ with me, fair one._

"_All too calm, you hide yourself… from reality…"_

Her eyes narrowed and she trembled violently, suddenly. _There's something wrong here… what is… why today?_ White irises darted but no where, and she could feel her breathing hitch somewhere in the back of her throat for a moment. There was something oppressive and vicious hanging in the taste of the air; dripping from the towering pines, elms, oaks. There was a slithering peril under the film of ice she hung lifeless over, on hands and knees. With a jolt she was upon her feet and her pace had quickened. There was a deep fear in her heart, muddled with the rage, and clearly she felt the endless sheet of ice underneath creeping with an uncertain and trembling eagerness… one not its own.

_Shakespeare,_ she bit off in her innermost thoughts._ You lied to me. Upon this night, the rooster's call does not keep away all evil._

Bellows they could be called. Her lungs were bellowing out long sashes from between her teeth, over her body, along this crystalline white world that glimmered and settled around her as the epitome of perfection. Her eyes would glint ever a cold light to reflect the suddenly menacing aura and glow of this white, and yet this did nothing in the least. The earth was not threatened by a single woman, if any at all and ever.

"_Do you call it solitude? Do you call it liberty?"_

She felt the air stir uneasily inside her mind, her sight drunkenly slopping in every which way, and lightly she noted how her uneasiness had come to bring about her ever eminent downfall.

…_this is not supposed to happen! What would my dearest ones say if I fell to something without life… this night of all nights?_

"_When all the world turns away to leave you lonely…"_

_I… know these words._ The thought was dim, a faint recollection of something that brought on nothing resembling life, but only fickle recognition. _…the song…._

She trembled, a nail caught on the edge of a small ridge of ice beneath her hands. "I know that song," she mouthed, without a voice, dead to the world. Something deep within her agitated skull seemed to catch, as her nail quietly tore at the edge of the ice, dislodging itself from flesh at the constantly applied force. She wished the screen of white snow nothing more than a receptor for her thoughts.

Nights on end flew by her face in memory, whipped at her countenance with long, fluid tails, lashing at fair skin. Her eyes flashed at the flighty fingerings of her dreams, her teeth settling into each other to a strenuous, torturous and posed torment. She sat still, tensed and felt the chasm before her yawning wider, greater. Within her pale shell, her blood seemed covered with fur as it flew through capillaries, ventricles; it brushed against her inner self, as though the fuzz was pet the wrong way and caught against the very walls that held it within her.

"_The fields are filled with desires… all voices crying for freedom…"_

A leaflet of white flew before her mind's eye, and she focused on the only thing that could seduce her into a mockery of a serenity. The music flooded her ears with taunting vocalizations, beats of her heart and throbbing mentality. Centered, her thoughts, upon the treacherous world of white, deftly her fingers flew, more agile and fluent than speech could boast.

Resentment flared.

"_But all in vain, they will fade away… there's only you, to answer you… Forever!"_

Her harsh unearthly voice lashed out around her and her eyes snapped open, gleaming in the light of the moon, glowing from a light from within. A mental strand of muscle broke from her head, **lashing** out violently at the air; whipping at the song weaved into the presence around her. Another cracked free, white as bone, splattering the trees and snow with a hissing white out. Her head tilted left, pushed down from the force of it. Her eyes gleamed, flashed, searched the air before her without moving. There was relief here. Relief from anger in the way of delicate proceedings of her straining, screaming body.

"_In blinded mind… you are singing… a glorious hallelujah…"_

A milky white river flowed outwards from her pupils, coating her irises before retreating behind that clear film over her eyes, as a smile was bared to the on-looking world. Physically, she knew it was near to killing her over such thoughts. Such strands of thought: thick, white, as bone yet fluid they snapped from her head.

"_The distant… flutter of angels… They're all too far… too far to reach for you…"_

"I have yet to fall because of your not wanting me here, dear siblings. I have yet to accede to your wishes when the world is clearly readying my kin's—_untimely_—demise." She spoke and a resounding aggression seemed to boom from the ebony pines and the 'purest' cold upon the earth. Nevertheless she could feel something stir inside her mind, she could feel the wild strains of music draw slowly further into her head. Her body shook violently suddenly; repulsed by the fiend she drew into her body. The ebony tones of the world grew lighter, shadows dissipated; her body would not accept the energies she absorbed.

"_I am here… alone again… in my sweet serenity…"_

It was crying out vainly, this fiend of shadow, whatever it was. "I will not let you behead me just yet… it's not my time to go." She whispered and her eyes dimmed. The world about her fell serene; lost the blunt shadows that hid its intricacy. The voice of song echoed deep inside of her, no longer words uttered from within the world… from around her.

"_Hoping you will ever find me in any place…"_

"This song… is not something you'll ever let him hear again…" The wind had halted and she realized somewhere inside the back of her subconscious that she had broken into a long, even lope.

"_I will call it solitude… when all my songs fade in vain…"_

"It will… forever be… encased… here…." Awkwardly she drew out her ungloved hand. A single nail gently circled high on her left breast, a little right of her heart, still bleeding and leaving a dark stain upon her coat.

She was drunk with the sensation of the threat, the song within her veins, the fiend who throbbed inside the palms of her feet and hands, stretched throughout her back and fought to close her eyes. A whisper, her words were as air upon a current in the water… visible to those only dragged under. "He will never be alone again… I _promise_ you." The fiend within sank deep within her senses and diminished.

"_Fly my voice… far away… to eternity."_

8-&-8

Hazily she realized that the world was steady once more under her silent, standing form, and a curtain of white, feathered dust fell to rest upon her mane of milky brown sheens. Her face was upturned suddenly and her eyes blinked, settling into a soft gray-blue of normalcy and gazing upwards into a view of utter infinity she knew she could touch. The snow settled upon her cheeks, her half-lidded eyes, her unmoving lips, and melted slowly, the silver drops sliding across her face to the sides and then down to the hollow in her neck. Her eyes were threatening to close against the feeling as the rivulets were absorbed and became utterly deceased upon contact with her clothes.

Not ten yards before her stood the very building she had pictured in her mind; that she had caught a glimmer of while riding her ebony mare, Zyadah. Here endured and existed the generous mansion she had felt somewhere deep inside her mind's corridors as she wandered the forest's deepest ways. Finally she turned her gaze down and looked to the tall windows, curtains as shadows falling around the great fogged panes of glass. Her head tilted to the side in a quiet thoughtfulness.

_He… he actually takes the time to live now… doesn't he?_ Her eyes fell upon the two tall, majestic, ebony and blood candles that stood regally in every window. Silently blue eyes traced the masterful stonework of the structure. _It's a beautiful building… and a beautiful place to live… Vincent has good taste…._ She smiled slightly and easily made her way around the left side of the building, knowing somehow exactly where to go. There was a certain feeling and understanding locked away in the back of her mind when it came to buildings of any sort, and ancient mansions were a certain… specialty. _I'd always loved these buildings… so regal and old… filled with a warmth I could never find anywhere else… I'd think that's why Vincent took it upon himself to settle here…._

She refrained from slipping quickly by the windows… there was no reason for her to hide from the master of the household when he was the very one she was coming here to see. Her reasoning was simple and it almost brought a smile back upon her lips. _Besides… knowing Valentine he already knows I'm here and doesn't care… or he's yet to find out. Although I wouldn't think the man would go to bed so early… it's what…?_ She cast her gaze to the heavens above and paused in her stride at the front left corner of the building. Her eyes studied the sky for several moments and then she threw her gaze to the moon and acknowledged its position with mild interest. _Only around a quarter past midnight… not late at all._ She smiled faintly at the distant moon before regaining her quiet expression and found her way winding around to the left side of the building.

From within the forest's darkened, winding corridors a silver wolf tinged black looked to the hills. Its opals caught onto a lone figure bathed in astral lights, echoing gold-tainted silver, looking to the Moon. It stood regal against the aged rock, the fires from the stonework eyes giving it an essence of unsure age and timelessness. The smile set on the being's lips brought the wolf down to the forest floor, carpeted in a white that could never coincide with the silver white, gold streaked figure against a wizened stone face. The wolf dropped its head to the soft powder beneath and watched in quiet as the form slipped its way about the side of the mansion. Its tail twitched back and forth in familiarity, its ears set back and it rested for several moments before coming to its feet and sliding off into the beckoning forest ways once more.

8-&-8

Soon she came upon the door she'd expected and gently stepped up onto the little step under solid gray stonework. The door had been set about fourteen inches into the wall, she estimated. The door itself was an expensive and beautifully fashioned cherry-mahogany, a deep reddish brown color. The handle was also exquisitely crafted. She couldn't help but smile slightly before grasping the handle and turning it three-quarters of the way to the right, then half a turn left and finally one more three-quarter turn to the right. She heard the faint sound of the lock popping and then she smoothly opened the door, sliding inside quickly before the cold could come in, and shutting the door with little noise.

Quietly she went about stripping herself of most of her outer garments, leaving her sweater, a slightly wet pair of long black pants, and a turtle-necked, long-sleeved shirt still on. She gathered her boots and socks, leaving her coat dripping upon a hook near the door inside the corridor she now made her way through. To her right, as she'd expected, was the kitchen area, an old and quaint place with an aged woodstove set in the center of the room. She studied the area for several moments before locating a small rack and then placing it at the side of the woodstove, hanging her socks upon the higher portion of the rack and setting her boots on the lower part.

Her bare feet made little sound on the stone floor of the kitchen, and only a touch more on the wooden floors in the halls as she quietly made her way throughout the rooms. She knew she would come upon the dining room first and was graced with that majestic sight as she stepped out from the hall's shadows. It was extravagant and subtly made her skin itch, her finger twitching at the presence of such _age_ and emotion within the structure of this building. Her body could not help but respond. She bowed her head in respect to the nameless presence and moved on and through the room, making her way into the central hall where she caught sight of the two grand doors and the towering windows she'd seen from the front of the building. With little thought to this great hall she gently walked through several more corridors and eventually discovered what she'd been searching for.

The study was graced with countless high windows peering down upon the rapidly decreasing slope she'd have reached had she passed on over the hill's crown. The ceiling vaulted into the sky, and a thin staircase along the inside wall led up to a wide balcony, looking out over open air to the two walls of windowpanes. Both the balcony and the wooden paneling on the level where she stood were adorned with rows of bookshelves teeming with novels, encyclopedias, stores of history and wings of fantasy. Near the corner where the windowed walls met lay a handsome rug that spread over nearly a quarter of the room from that point. Set about the sides of this rectangular piece of majesty were a couple of deep, curving chaise lounges and complimenting couches also garlanded with flowing curves. In the one wall, complimentary the wall festooned with the staircase, was a great stone fireplace, typical of any such manor.

Her feet gently touched the edge of the rug, leaving the cold floor for its soft, entwined form. The light of the fire leapt across the long way and played under her bare foot as it moved her forward in a leisurely, flowing motion. It did not surprise her to see the crimson eyes turned upon the white world, tinted with emotion rarely witnessed by… _anyone_. Her soft steps were upon fire and twisting strands, her eyes were softly resting on the darkness, the untainted white just past the windows.

She stepped to his side, not brushing him, though close, and she felt the whisper of acknowledgment in the air for a fleeting moment. His eyes were turned upon her and she felt them tracing her countenance for a flicker of recognition before his mind was settled, and relaxed into familiar remembrance. His gaze was questioning and his hair fell peculiarly over deep red irises that softly begged to be met. She could feel the underlying ache there, the hesitance to do more than simply gaze. Her heart seemed to stretch painfully, and she was slightly lightheaded. Her sudden words were sung gently in the listening room; from whence they came, even she couldn't defray.

'_The snow in the air… to sing me a lullaby, my winter… come hither… to me.' _Her eyes looked out upon the world and seemed to beckon it faintly to stay, a hand gently reaching out to brush against the air where snow might be.

'_The dark night's to come… so, kiss me for goodbye…' _She gently touched her lips and motioned two fingers to the clear heavens before turning slightly to look up at the dark man standing silent at her side. _'The grace of the Goodland… is near… to… you.'_

She smiled softly and gently wound her arm through his, sliding her fingers through his warm, human hand and looked to the height of the window they stood before. Her voice remained low, telling, singing him soft secrets the heavens above asked of them and those that would listen. _'Show me the flowers invisible… sing me the hymns inaudible.'_

She gently touched her throat, pushing down her turtle neck to rub her windpipe gently with a finger, his eyes slowly following her hand. _'The wind is my voice…'_ She moved her hand away from her neck and down to rest over a little to the side of her left breast and his gaze trailed the movement._ 'The moon is my heart…'_ Her hand went out into the air and motioned to the world outside and before their eyes. He looked where she beckoned and comprehension gently began to settle in his mind._ 'Come find me, I'm on every hill, and fields.'_ It returned and gently gripped his upper arm, her gaze returning to his eyes with reassurance he could succumb to._ 'I'm here… ever you're near…'_

She wasn't sure if she was making any sense… if sudden words of remembrance and understanding meant anything to him. All she knew was that before her mind was clarity and a sweet attempt at peace. _From dust to dust…. Yet… we are not dust…._ The realization had hit her from the moment she had entered the ancient building and not been met with Valentine's presence. It had been Valentine himself whose threat had echoed dangerously from the fauna, from under the layers of ice and blanketing snow, from the heavens and the moon's reluctance. He'd sought… to diminish….

She looked to the grand fire and gently back up at him, stepping away and whispering the very next phrase to try to make him and the world understand, motioning, looking to the landscape outside the kingly windows. _'The snow in the air… to sing me a lullaby… the angel of rebirth…'_ She turned and looked back at him steadily. _'…is here…. So let all your pain…'_ She stepped forward quietly, her eyes compassionate as his filled with a mirroring understanding and quiet sadness.

In his troubled, quiet red eyes settled the knowledge of why she had come here. He could feel the forest and winter outside embracing her presence. The ancient stone wrapped around them welcomed her in, as though she were the cornerstone that held it standing so majestic and undefeatable. Her eyes glimmered a strange hue as flame danced across silver-blue, and her form so close to him sent a calming tremor through his body.

'…_sleep within the husha-by.'_ She quietly moved a finger over his dark brows, gently trying to form a smile as his eyes closed against her touch, falling prey willingly to her, just as much to break her gaze as from the quiet lulling sensation._ 'The grace of the Goodland…'_ She faltered and slowly the movement graced her lips._ '…grace of the Goodland… grace of the Goodland…'_ She gently felt him pull her close against him, the movement feeling unquestionably… right; the space diminishing between them. Her voice lulled the last words slowly, their very sounds a caressing embrace._ 'Is near… so close… to you.'_

She quietly rested her head against his chest, letting her eyes close and sliding her arms gently around him to return the soft embrace that cried out for forgiveness. The few moments drifted on into many long lapses in time, and the gentle hug lasted for lengths of them immeasurable. The warmth that pervaded between their bodies flowed throughout their still and steady forms. There was a fulfillment and newfound peace that saturated their minds and the steady beating of their hearts. She quietly rested in this imbued solitude, seeking for all she was worth to simply stand in that feeling and warmth for as long as forever could last. A sigh entered her mind and she squeezed her eyes closed even more, slightly tightening her encircling arms. _What can I possibly do Vincent? I can only give you…._

Her arms gently slipped out from around his body and she brushed a hand against his shoulder, looking at him carefully and smiling slightly, attempting to return everything to a particular normalcy. Their gazes seemed to reflect the sudden vacancy each felt at having broken the momentary embrace. She knew she had to ask, and the words came out quietly. "You alright?" They seemed caring enough, yet both knew the underlying meanings within them. _Have you been like this… for so long? Why have you fallen… into such an ill mood? Can you please tell me why you'd once again reconsider something… something we don't deserve?_ The very thought of willing death to come was considered madness… to every person they'd yet met. Somewhere deep inside the two knew it was a possibly sanctuary, temporarily before they'd fall… fall into depths they were bound to… because of who—because of _what_—each was.

The words brought the dark haired man out of whatever spell he'd been entrapped in and he nodded, although his eyes turned to study hers searchingly. However a moment after Vincent gently stepped away from her and quietly slipped out of the room; her eyes never left his ebony mane. _There's sadness here we both never thought would be recognized and related to by anything… anyone…. We are… becoming an oasis each, for one another. What have we gotten ourselves into? How can we ever atone? Does it… does it really matter if we cannot change it?_

She softly wiped the thoughts away and shook her head slowly to rid herself of her dazedness. As she settled upon one of the regal couches she subconsciously noted a book, framed in the light of the fireplace, upon a small end table near the other couch. The cushions, however, looked quite fluffed which led her to believe that Vincent had been standing in silent reverie for some time.

_It's difficult to puzzle out what he thinks about…._ She noted a small navy ribbon stuck somewhere in the lower part of the book. _Possibly he reads so much because he wants to avoid thinking… whereas I seek it, and regret it…._ She quietly got to her feet and stepped over to the other sofa, craning her neck to see what he was reading. Catching its title she smirked and mentally smacked herself while retreating to her previous seat. Hamlet._ It figures. Although it is a good book. Yet I wouldn't have thought him one for Shakespeare. Actually… he doesn't seem to be the kind to read… for all his quiet nature… though…_ She sighed. _I'm being biased. No more oppressive thoughts towards non-readers now._

"They know you've come?" She turned her head to look at Vincent who had sidled into the room in that breathless, quiet way, never announcing his presence unless he meant to.

She shook her head. "No… Al and Cloud have no idea… and I'm not planning on telling them. Dart…" She paused and looked pained for a moment, glancing out the windows to avoid his quiet red eyes. "Dart understands…. He's too good to me, to not understand…" She whispered the next words; they slipped from her mouth before she could bite her tongue, as the sudden stinging, harsh prick in her eyes surfaced. "…too good for me." She could not halt the pain, the depression that settled over her mind whenever thoughts of Dart came to her. It was ever… inevitable. Yet she silently berated herself for threatening to cry. Strength seeped from her at the moment she needed it most, and she among the great hung her head.

Vincent silently observed her for a while longer before stepping closer, reaching down for her, gripping her upper arm tightly and with the other hand clasping her chin firmly. She was too taken aback to respond. He pulled her up into a strong, smooth embrace and leaned into her, capturing, arresting her with an astonishing kiss. It was pleading, commanding, leaving her stunned against his dizzying need and equally fierce will to drive from her mind any of the sadness that had settled there. The sensation of his tongue against her lips had her eyes melting closed as her body dimly struggled to fight back, falling dead to any will of hers, begging to respond to the stimulus.

Yet her mind fought for her. Memories splashed down as a flood within her mind of the gunner's years hunting her down; the scars on her legs, arm, and shoulder throbbed from the contact with the man that had once sought to destroy her. Old fears, ancient instincts were embedded deep into the farthest cavities of her mind. And yet, to the astonishment of both, she found herself giving way, her lips parting against his and her previously deadened hands sliding up his arms.

Vincent's hands released their hold and gently encircled her warm body. His mind was overwhelmed with some flush of emotion long drowned in murky depths once thought impenetrable, unreachable. The warmth that smoldered within her was emblazoned into his skin, was unimaginably welcoming, beautiful, encompassing them in something indescribably _needed_. Her hands gently flowed up over his shoulders and to his neck, easing their way up and into his dark, languid hair; and he shivered.

_Oasis… oasis…. Oasis… oasis…._ The word echoed in her mind like a heavenly bell that wakes one from dark dreams and haunting fears. His tongue slid over hers and she could taste something wholly infinitesimal in the warm cavern her tongue ran throughout. The sudden desperation filled their minds as deep impenetrable fumes, and all they could feel was the essential _requisite_ for that serenity and mutuality the other felt and offered. _God, it feels so _good_… to be at the point of complete understanding… utter compliance…. We've found our reflections and it feels…._ The thought was cropped short and she trembled as Vincent gently pulled away, his lips not leaving hers until the very last moment, a small warm breath tickling full lips.

The words slipped from her lips quietly, resembling the near silent whisper of wind. "It's no longer an obligation…." Her eyes glinted in fortitude and she ignored the change in her racing heart at the sound of her own voice. It was deep and husky, crooning for want of the fulfillment of her freshly reclaimed stipulation. Crimson eyes were a shattered mirror so swiftly, the countered determination and resolved decision gone awry, ruined. His voice caressed the room with what could only be called a fractured, distraught tone. "Then it is intentional… _chosen_." There read in his face the unmarred word, ever subsisting after all that had been done to cast it away.

Betrayal.

She could do nothing but fall so lifeless upon the floor, her legs giving way beneath her suddenly exhausted body, and her eyes could not drag themselves upwards to whisper a faint and fickle request for forgiveness. Throughout quiet paths in the corridors that whimpered of want, over the soft carpeting flowing upon the elaborate stair and within deeply extravagant halls, the air was teeming with hazed expectancy and wistfulness.

"Sleep well."

She was left alone, falling willing into the cruel embrace of her regrets, never truly knowing which of them had said that pensive parting.

8-&-8

"There are pieces left behind perhaps, that we picked up so delicately at first, after calming fires of regret and hate, pain and other hurts. Sometimes I do not think that we ever would have had to speak a word, even in thought, and our affinity would become a fragrant song that lulled between our bodies a blossoming understanding. This… faintest flower of ours, our own… still blooms today, and though I will love some others in time, ever I let this delicate thing flower in my very heart, and for its sake I am not cold anymore.

"Perhaps a lifetime ago there would have been stone sealing away our desires, turning us into distant statues of anguish unfathomable. But by our love, our silent reveries that are sealed away underneath the glitter of snow's veil every winter, we keep our doors set not in our hearts, but outside upon our very lives, keeping them open and ever revealing the glow of hope and the warmth of understanding we have now. If ever we are alone, turn both of us to what we have inside, what we walk in every day and show the world, and our eyes, whether of water or fire, settle upon a delicate blossom of white, ever peeking out from underneath the timeless blankets of snow.

"Still today grows that love, flourishes our desire, but we keep it and do not have to remind ourselves to breathe each silent night."

8-&-8

The master bedroom sprawled out languidly before her curious, lean gaze. Adorned in rich cherry-mahogany paneling and flooring, velvet curtains of lurking crimson and ebony sheens, which were reflected by the lazy rug seducing the patrons above and below its heavy luster… the room was elegant beyond comparison. Soon dawn's first fingertips would caress the room, but for now night yet trickled into the dark room, and she noted the copious fireplace set into the left wall, imagined flames licking at the air above it in an invisible peace, those cooled embers. A similar flicker of wrought light caught her eyes and she turned opposite the fireplace and was awed, her half-lidded eyes widening slightly, momentarily. A grand, darkling mirror clung to nearly the entire right wall, faint twisted figures of sliver-black etched into its silver slide, and a carved flow of water and flame edging the blackened frame. Her form appeared silver as the very mirror in its great expanse, and she smiled softly. The bed was substantial and luxurious, an illustrious four-poster with deep, fantastic drapes of darkling black velvet and a fine veil of blood tones tied back to the posts. The black spread and deep red pillows of the bed slid into the sensuality of every other part.

She smiled and quietly stood still, eyes gazing in wordless love as Vincent quietly slept, ever silent, ever curled in beautiful serenity. A touch of wind flew by her, brushing her gently with a finger and sending her into a soft fit of trembling. She ran her gaze along his body, studied the way he slumbered so submissively, a charming picture of grace; at ease in such a blessedly peaceful place. Her silvered eyes of blue stayed upon him for a moment only, quietly her bare foot taking the step forward, from cold to the coolness of dark sheets she slid upon and into the wide bed. Gliding under the covers with nary an offense to his relaxed presence, she softly breathed deeply for the last time this familiar scent. Closing one eye slowly, her other open but a touch, roved gently across his truly angelic face, she saw him for what ever he had been.

With softest touch, a finger gently traced one gracefully arched eyebrow, down to the side and suddenly she withdrew her hand, hesitantly letting it lay in the air while she softly debated with herself. Yet ever there was something that led her on, dancing lightly her finger upon his lip, it was a meaningful touch, whispering unspoken a goodbye. Lightly his breath tickled her finger and a faint smile suddenly was what her blue eyes were settled intimately on. Looking up, she met his gaze, gentleness and wholesome love there. Light kiss against her fingers and she let her hand fall to the soft covers beneath her, as tenderly he reached out both arms, warmth spreading throughout her chest as he drew her into his warmth in a truly eternal embrace. With eyes closed, no longer separated in body, in understanding, by pain and grave grief, they lay in each others arms, where the dawn caught them, bathed in warmth, sleeping as the sun rose upon the world, hidden behind deep clouds to allow them their final and effortless goodbye.


End file.
